Lists
by the-wolf-and-the-star
Summary: Sirius notices the way Remus always makes lists, and then makes lists of all the reasons he likes him.


**AN: I wrote this for the summer wolfstar wank on tumblr. The prompt was Sirius.**

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Lists.

Moony was famous for them. In the seven years Sirius had lived in Gryffindor dorm with Remus and the other Marauders, Remus always made lists. Sirius would find lists of all of his homework assignments thrown in with his Quidditch materials, or on top of his pillow. That was the only way he would notice them. At first he found it profoundly annoying. "Remus, stop being such a mother hen," Sirius had stuck out his tongue. Remus went scarlet in the face.

Sirius felt the heat in his stomach rising. They had spent a little over five years living together at school, and this had never been a problem for Sirius. He didn't feel heat in his stomach over Moony on a regular basis. This was strange.

For a moment, Sirius was not in the flat he now shared with Remus after graduating from Hogwarts, the first place Sirius felt he had ever belonged. He was not staring at the box with the lists he had given Moony in return. He was back in that dorm room, a sixth year student having very confusing thoughts about one of his best friends.

They were standing in the bathroom and Sirius had his shirt off. Hot from the September sun and the rough Quidditch practice, Sirius wanted nothing more than to shower. "Look Moony," he found himself flustered, and paused, not knowing how to word things properly. He tried again, "I like the lists, I guess. But you don't need to make them."

"If I didn't, you would probably fail all of your classes." Remus smirked, and the sun glimmered off his Prefect badge.

The heat in Sirius rose again. "Oi, Moony. I'm in need of a shower. Do you mind?" Remus blushed again and Sirius couldn't help but stare at the way the blood stayed on his cheeks.

"Sorry, Padfoot," Remus left the bathroom without another word.

Was it conceited that Sirius was area that girls wanted him? Did he ever really want any of them back? Not particularly, but he was an expert at pretending.

_Maybe I don't want to live a lie anymore._

But even if he did have feelings for Moony, and it was hard to say he did, that didn't mean that Moony felt the same way, that feelings were okay, or that Sirius could act on them. Sure, he had kissed girls before. Lots of times, even. But boys were different, and this was Moony.

Sirius never gave a fuck about hurting the other girls before. Whilst he had never been cruel for the same of being cruel, he had never really been in love before. Not to say he was completely innocent, either.

Standing in his Quidditch trousers, Sirius quickly looked around to make sure no one else was thinking of taking a shower. James was serving detention, which was not rare, but it was rare that Sirius had not been serving detention with him. Peter was being tutored by a Hufflepuff in Herbology. He had not needed the extra help, but was trying to get her to date him. With a sigh of relief, Sirius slowly stepped out of his trousers and into the shower, trying but failing to not notice that he had an erection. Yes, Sirius had had them before, but not like this, and never under these circumstances.

In the six years Sirius had been at Hogwarts, he had tried to undo all of the things he had learned and endured at the Black House. One of the things he had learned was that men did not like other men. Yes, at the stuffy and downright boring dinner parties Sirius had been forced to attend, the men all sat in a room smoking cigars and drinking firewhiskey, leaving the women out of it. But the men were not affectionate with each other, let alone their wives.

In fact, Sirius had been completely convinced that his parents were not even in love, but only together because of the obligation of it. He had never seen them hold hands or smile or act remotely interested in each other. Love was foolish. Yet you were supposed to find a well-off pure-blood woman and be mindlessly bored and have children and keep the Black family pure.

The hot water had long run out. Yet Sirius could not leave the shower. For once, he was glad not to be in detention with James, but just to have the time to contemplate the things he had never given himself permission to consider.

After Sirius was shivering and the sun was now low in the sky, he finally stepped out of the shower, dressed hastily, and ran into the dining hall.

"Where the hell have you been?" James looked at him, a roll hanging out of his mouth.

"Thinking," Sirius sat down and tried not to look at Remus. He reached into his robes looking for a quill and some parchment.

"Need some parchment, Padfoot?" Remus sat across from him studying transfigurations.

Sirius took a sip from his goblet full of pumpkin juice. "Yeah, thanks mate." Their hands brushed, and flustered, Sirius almost spilled his juice. Lily Evans sat a few feet away with Dorcas Meadows and Alice. She stared at Sirius for a minute before turning away again to Dorcas and Alice.

Hestia Jones used to sit with them, but now was sitting next to James. They had been dating a few weeks now, which was kind of awkward, given that James, as all of Hogwarts knew, was in love with Lily, and Lily did not return the feelings. Also, Hestia had been Lily's best friend.

Slowly, Sirius started making a list. He had steak and potatoes on his plate, but was not giving them the detention they deserved. Peter stared back and forth between Remus and Sirius. Like Lily, he felt it was not his place to comment on things, but he watched.

Sirius stared at the list, complete with blotched ink. He hoped like hell no one was paying attention. He stood up to gather his things when his right elbow made contact with the goblet, spilling the juice everywhere. Red in the face, Sirius let out an "ah fuck" and picked up the goblet, the soaking wet list, now running with ink, and ran out of the hall. The steak and potatoes were left untouched.

Sirius had dried off his list to Remus, but it still smelled faintly of the pumpkin juice, and the ink was now splotchy.

_It's now or never._

Sirius threw the list inside Moony's potion book. He did his homework whilst Remus and Lily did their Prefect duties and James and Peter sat up planning their latest prank. Sirius felt weird not planning the prank, but had told everyone he felt sick, which explained the clumsiness, the untouched food, and the red face. The truth was, Sirius had felt sick. What was Remus going to say? He felt queasy at the thought.

At 9PM, Sirius gave up on his defense against the dark arts homework and threw himself onto his bed. He didn't bother to change into his Gryffindor coloured pyjamas, bought originally to spite his parents. He turned to face the wall and did not move for what felt like hours.

Peter came in an hour later. "Padfoot, are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." He continued facing the wall.

"Do you like Moony?" Peter had thrown his shirt off and was changing into his pale blue pyjamas. He hadn't meant to say anything, but now the words were hanging in the air and he couldn't take them back. "Shit, I didn't mean-"he stammered.

"Of course I like Moony. What's not to like? He's our friend," Sirius mumbled to the wall.

"That's not-that's not what I meant."

"Drop it." Sirius sighed, still facing the wall. "I'm tired and I just want to go to bed."

"Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks, Wormtail."

"Any time, Padfoot," Peter climbed into his four poster and started snoring a few minutes later.

Sirius closed his eyes and could picture Remus walking with Lily from the corridors they had been patrolling to the Prefects office on the fourth floor. He would be back soon. James was probably staying up late again. "I'll sleep when I'm dead," he would ruffle his hair and smirk. There was always mischief to manage. James never worked on the Map by himself, it was only something to be worked on when all four were present.

Peter was still snoring when Remus came in sometime around midnight. He unpinned his Prefect badge, placed it carefully on his desk, and sat down, taking out his potions book, the last class he had to review that night.

Sirius was still awake. He held his breath and strained his ears, waiting. Remus said nothing.

Remus turned out the light precisely twenty eight minutes later and climbed into bed. Sirius had counted.

The first list

Tea

Your Laugh

The way you smile

How smart you are

"She must be some girl." Remus handed the mashed up list back to Sirius. "Don't leave it in my book, please. I'm assuming you wanted me to edit it before you gave it to her. I didn't find anything wrong with it." They were standing in the great hall entrance. Sirius tried not to blush, but felt his face get hot. "You've never needed my help with girls before." Remus did not follow James and Peter into the hall, but left for the library and stayed until classes. Sirius watched him leave before walking into the great hall to join James and Peter, bewildered and very hungry.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it hadn't been that. He didn't think Moony would have left him standing in the great hall entrance completely confused, his jaw attempting to unhinge like a snake.

Sirius focused on his classes, and tried to keep his distance from Moony. It was clear to him that Moony did not want him around, and he hoped he hadn't fucked it up enough to ruin the Marauders. September faded into October, and they had hardly spoken.

Losing Moony had been one of his biggest fears, and one he hadn't really considered when he had made the list. They were already on tense terms from the Prank the year before, but both had been pretending not to be. Sirius felt the bridge between them growing wider and tried to push it from his mind.

He wrote twenty five more lists before giving up and sending one last list. It was now nearly December, and they were at least talking to each other and Remus didn't hide in the library during breakfast nearly every day.

The Twenty Seventh List

Your jumper

The insane amount of mustard put on sandwiches.

The way you would rather read poetry instead of writing it.

Your lists

Your tea obsession

Your intensity

Your attention to details

The fur on your wrists

How you sniff books

Moony, I notice these things

Also many other things

But I'm not good at words

Not as good as you anyway

I'll stop because I am rambling

~Padfoot

Moony had found this list on his pillow on the fourth of December. Snow was falling on the windows and Moony had been silently worrying about Padfoot going home to 12 Grimmauld Place for the holiday a few weeks from now. He usually spent it with James, but this year, Walburga Black had insisted that he went home. Uncle Alphard was sick.

To Sirius, snow was magical, and he felt better about the twenty-seventh list. Twenty-seven was a good number. He had kept the rejected and sad lists, and noticed the number 12, forced himself not to think about going home, and thought that the twelfth list was the worst list he had made. No wonder Moony had whacked him on the nose with a newspaper.

For a very long time, Moony was quiet. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. It had become apparent with each list, that Sirius had meant them for Moony. Number three had been folded in his sock, which was a very silly place to put a list. Number fifteen had been tossed onto his desk during Ancient Runes, which was rather impressive, given that Sirius wasn't even in that class. But with each list, he felt appreciated, and the had made him laugh.

Moony came around to the idea that the black dog had grown to care for him, and even if it meant finding things in his socks, or in his food, which wasn't smart, either, if it meant having someone to laugh with, he was okay with it.

He wrote back another list and stuck it in his hand during potions.

Because you make me smile

You are a tenacious bastard

And I'd rather have you in my life

Instead of anyone else

Because we both have seen incredible darkness

We deserve to have some light

~Moony


End file.
